


Legend of Galactic Beer

by Tatsu_Maki



Category: Ginga Eiyuu Densetsu | Legend of the Galactic Heroes
Genre: Bad Puns, Black Adder reference, Gen, Parody, spoilers beyond new Die Neue These
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-04-07 00:16:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19073602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tatsu_Maki/pseuds/Tatsu_Maki
Summary: Another silly story of Bangs Wenli and Reinhard von Moussel, written at least 15 (maybe 20) years ago.





	Legend of Galactic Beer

  
  
All the rights to the characters and ideas of LOGH belong to Tanaka Yoshiki, Tokuma and whoever.   
Also all trademarks etc, belong to whoever they belong to.  
Any references to Black Adder are probably copyright Rowan Atkinson and the BBC.  
All bad puns and the goofy story are solely my responsibility. Don't hurt me. It wouldn't be worth   
it. Really.  
^_~ Suzuno  
  
  
                GINGA BIRU DENSETSU  
        Additional Dramatis Personae(in order of appearance)  
            Cornelia Windsor     as     Pompadour  
              Joanne Lebello     as     Joe Levelhead  
                   Hwan Lewi     as     Wine Lewi  
                Job Trunicht     as     Joe-Bob Truenit  
              Adm. Greenhill     as     Adm. Clairol  
                 Andrew Fork     as     Andrew F**k  
                   Adm. Bucock     as     Beercock  
                HQ Chief Sitolet     as     Sitsalot  
  
Chapter 1 "ROLL OUT THE BARREL"  
  
    The sweet headiness of Bangs' victory at Shampoo rendered much of the FPPA High Council giddy   
with joy and self-congratulation.  Many of the Councilors, who could be characterized metaphorically   
as having more hair than wit, were now literally in that position.  They had, of course, taken   
advantage of their rank to get the first new dos from the famed hairdressers of Shampoo. With only a   
couple of exceptions, all sported new coiffures.

  
    One of these, Mrs. Cornelia Pompadour, self-consciously patted her new perm and dye job, as   
she held forth on the greatness of a new plan put forth by a faction of the military.

  
    "Now that we have successfully liberated the downtrodden hair-care experts of Shampoo, we   
must carry on! We must not rest on our laurels, we must continue our crusade against the evil   
Goldenperm Empire which feeds off the fat of the Galaxy!" orated the somewhat rotund councilor.

  
    "From here, GE isn't the only one feeding off the fat of the Galaxy," was the sour, sotto   
voce comment by Joe Levelhead to his ally and drinking bud, Wine Lewi. Wine snickered, then turned an  
innocent face to Pompadour as she cleared her throat irately.

  
    "As I was saying, we must carry on. To this end, the military has presented a daring new plan  
that will continue our heady success against GE - our next strike will be to take over all the liquor  
distribution routes within the Empire itself! It has been pointed out to me that for too long we have  
been locked out of the lucrative ale market in the Empire, where the enslaved citizenry would no   
doubt welcome any source who could promise them the FPPA's fabled ALE HEINEKEN ALE!!" Not to mention   
that it would increase all us Councilors’ incomes, since the ale is a government property - and we   
could really use the cash to make sure we get to stay in office - we've already saturated all   
available markets in the FPPA. Having won a fashion battle is nice, but the real money is in alcohol."

     Levelhead protested. "We can't just use the military and tax the citizens resources just to   
subsidize our campaign coffers! We're supposed to be working for the good of all the FPPA, not just   
ourselves!"  
    Pompadour tittered, "Speak for yourself."

  
    The Council Chair cleared his throat, and said, "Um, let's take a look at this chart.  As we   
can see, the FPPA market has leveled out, and even taken a downturn, as more of the citizenry   
inexplicably opts for cheaper, non-alcoholic beverages, instead of patriotically supporting our   
lifestyles by purchasing Ale Heineken Ale. At this rate, unless we expand, we might have to curb our   
personal spending!"

  
    Appalled mutters arose.

  
    "Unthinkable!"

  
    "Traitorous hoi polloi!"

  
    Levelhead again protested, "But what about the people we are supposed to be serving?"

  
    Pompadour pompously propounded, "Let them drink ale."

  
    The Council Chairman called for a vote, and the measure was overwhelmingly approved - only   
Levelhead, Wine Lewi, and Job-Bob Truenit signaling nay. Truenit's abstention from the yea-sayers   
garnered some skeptical and surprised looks, but they were all rebuffed by his spuriously sober   
demeanor.

  
    Wine and Levelhead shook their heads at the collective stupidity of the Council.

<><><><><><><><>

  
    Lt. Clairol entered Bangs office. "Admiral, my dad...I mean Admiral Clairol would like to see   
you regarding - well, the Council has made its decision."  
    "Oh dear," Bangs said, sweeping the hair off his forehead, "This doesn't sound good."

  
    When Bangs entered Adm. Clairol's office, he received permission to seat himself. He took a   
place next to an unfamiliar officer. The Admiral was watching a news conference in which Truenit   
explained that as a patriot, though he was all for market expansion, he thought the blessed taste of   
Heineken Ale should be not used as a lever to enter the GE, but as a reward for their citizens   
spontaneously defecting to the FPPA.

  
    "He's really spinning a yarn, isn't he?" Adm. Clairol commented.

  
    "Yes, but despite the fact it's Truenit, he's correct in voting against this expedition.   
There's no way this can work, Sir," Bangs sighed in disgust.

  
    "WHAT?!" exploded the commodore sitting next to Bangs.

  
    "Uh, do I know you?" Bangs asked.

  
    "I'm Commodore Andrew F**k!" he bellowed importantly.

  
    Clairol cleared his throat. "Admiral Bangs, this is the gentleman whose idea was approved by   
the Council."

  
    "Would Admiral Bangs care to tell me why he thinks this won't work?" F**k sneered.

  
    "Apart from the fact that Ale Heineken Ale is an acquired taste, the GE market already has   
plenty of varieties of ales, lagers etc., relatively cheaply available to their citizenry. Without a   
massive advertising campaign, as well as a considerable drop in the current price of the Ale, there   
is currently no incentive for the people of the GE to change their drinking habits," Bangs explained.

  
    "Everyone thought that Shampoo was too well protected to ever be taken, but you succeeded! Do   
you think you're the only one who can conceive a cunning plan?!" sniffed F**k in disdain.

  
    "Well, uh..." Bangs murmured.

  
    "Commodore, you can go now," Clairol ordered. As the Commodore left, he turned to Bangs and   
said, "I didn't ask you here to be preached at by him, but to tell you your Fleet will be   
participating. Do you really think there's no possibility of success?"

  
    "With the kind of vague plan he probably has in mind? No, I don't think this'll work. This   
sort of campaign requires a longer view. At this time we don't have the distribution facilities and   
carriers to support such an ambitious incursion onto the GE drinks market. Also, the only way to   
cause an immediate change in drinking habits is to limit their options, which will win us no friends.   
For these, and other reasons, including the fact that the GE will probably send Von Lowenbrau to   
defend against us, I think this is a very bad idea," stated Bangs.

  
    "Well, we've been given our orders by the Council, and have to make the best of it. Get your   
fleet ready," sighed Adm. Clairol.

  
    "Yes Sir. My adjutant probably already has the ball rolling for me," Bangs smiled.  
    "Is she doing well?" Clairol asked.

  
    Bangs nodded and the other admiral smiled.

<><><><><><><><>  
  
    Bangs slumped in his seat at the staff meeting dazed by the mobilization numbers and the   
sheer stupidity of it all. Then Comm. F**k arose to present his cunning plan.

  
    "We will sail into the GE, present the grateful citizenry with the ability to purchase   
Ale Heineken Ale, and they will immediately rise and through off the shackles of the tyranny they   
live under!!!!" F**k threw his arms wide, and smiled beatifically upon the assembled flag officers.

  
    HQ Chief Sitsalot saw Vice Admiral Bangs slightly upraised hand and nodded in recognition.   
"Admiral, you may speak."

  
    Bangs said, "Can I ask why this has to be done immediately?"

  
    Vice Admiral Beercock, leaning his chin on his hands, answered, "I heard some of the   
Councilors are having trouble with rubber checks." Muffled laughter arose from the assembled officers.

  
    F**k smiled tightly, and cleared his throat. "We must strike while the iron is hot! There is   
no time like the present! Why put off till tomorrow what you could do today!"

  
    Beercock offered, "How about haste makes waste?"

  
    F**k repressed a snarl. "We must embark on this grand crusade! My cunning plan is infallible!"

  
    Bangs stood to be recognized. "What about the distribution system? How can we possibly   
support such a large scale mercantile expedition with so little preparation? Without being organizing   
it all beforehand, the least little glitch, so far from the distribution base, and the whole network   
can easily be chewed apart by the GE Navy, especially if Fleet Admiral Lowenbrau is in charge, which   
I'm sure he will be."

  
    "Fleet Supply will be the distribution network," F**k snorted in triumph.

  
    "Fleet Supply is not set up for that kind of thing! We will be vulnerable if there is no   
better system than that!" Bangs shot back.

  
    "Don't worry so much, Admiral Bangs. One would think you were trying to drag down morale,  
" F**k sneered.

  
    Before a seething Bangs could answer, Beercock lashed out, "Watch your mouth, Commodore!"

  
    Affecting a surprised look, F**k asked, "Was I rude?" and then continued on. "Now, this   
cunning plan...."

  
    Bangs mentally threw his hands up in despair and sat back down, contemplating the disaster   
awaiting the FPPA.

<><><><><><><><>

  
    The room had cleared, except for HQ Chief Sitsalot and Bangs. Sitsalot sighed and said,   
"F**k wouldn't know a cunning plan if it bit him on the ass and sang "Cunning plans are here again"   
while waving a sign imprinted with words "CUNNING PLAN." That's why I'm glad I made sure you and your   
fleet are going. At least you'll be out there to salvage the mess."

  
    "Me? Chief, you keep giving me the impossible jobs," Bangs semi-whined.

  
    "Because you can do them."  
  
    A few days later the Great Expeditionary Ale Mobilized Fleets set sail for the GE, where   
someone who did know a cunning plan from a hole in the ground awaited them.  
  



End file.
